Boy on Fire
by HarlieWrites
Summary: The boy with the snares. A Gale/Katniss story.
1. Shades of Grey

**I decided to turn this into a story, it began as just a one-shot because I didn't like they way Katniss responded to the mission.  
**

_Skip back to page 193- Mockingjay_  
_ Gale is leaving on Peeta's rescue mission._

They're getting Peeta out. My heart seems to contort, twisting and turning. _How? _Isn't Peeta locked away in the Capitol? _Why? _If they could, why hadn't they rescued him earlier? But most importantly... _Who? __  
_Haymitch explains it all carefully to me; speaking in simple terms, like I'm a child. I pay attention for the most part, drinking in the details: It was too costly before, they are getting Annie too, Finnick is sedated...Boggs is leading the mission. All very reassuring. However soon, I notice Haymitch acting a little strange; too nice, trying to cheer me up. Very unlike Haymitch. I know something is wrong, because nice is definitely not Haymitch's style.  
"So who else volunteered?" I ask, trying to act nonchalant.  
"I think there were seven altogether," he says evasively. A bad feeling forms in the pit of my stomach.  
"Who else, Haymitch?" I ask, but I already know the answer, I knew it from the start.  
Haymitch drops his act; it's fooling neither of us. "You know who else, Katniss. You know who stepped up first."  
Of course I do.  
Gale.

My hands begin to shake, and for a minute I'm sure I'm going to faint. _Gale. My Gale._ Why would he even _go?_ It's no secret that Peeta isn't exactly Gale's favorite person in the world. Bringing Peeta back means _I _get Peeta back. Who, to almost everyone in Panem and maybe even me, is my lover; the one person in the world who has been through exactly what I have been through, understands how I feel. But I'm not kidding myself. I know exactly why Gale went. He went because he knows rescuing Peeta is something I'm desperate for, something that will make _me _happy, even if it endangers himself. Because he loves me. Guilt pours into me, making me dizzy. I push love to the back of my mind, turning to more pressing issues. What if the mission isn't a success? What if they fail?

What if Gale dies?

A life without Gale. I try to imagine it. I'd lived without him many times; the Games, the Victory tour. But this is different, I always knew I'd return to him, or he'd return to me... or I wouldn't return because I was dead. _I _was the one sent into the arena; _I _was the one who was supposed to die. _He _was the one who was to picture a life without me, not the other way around. At last I'm able to feel how Gale must have felt every minute I spent in the arenas. Helpless, needy, desperate.

A life without Gale is all shades of grey. Dark and light but no colour, no brightness. I close my eyes and see only the ugly uniforms of district 13, the only colour in my life the sickly purple writing on my arm. I can't see the woods, the sky, the trees. All I see is walls, endless grey walls, boxing me in. My face plastered with a permanent scowl, because if Gale isn't there to make me laugh, who will? The Capitol has already taken so much from me; my home, my liberty... my Peeta. Taking Gale would be taking the very few pieces left of me.

I can't let it happen. I began to walk towards command. But soon I'm running, sprinting. When I arrive, panting, Haymitch is there with Plutarch, bent over some sort of map.  
"Katniss—"Plutarch begins, obviously ready to dismiss me.  
"Bring Gale back." I state. Plainly, bluntly. It is not a question.  
"I'm afraid we can't do that." Plutarch retorts, his voice calm.  
"I don't care. Bring him back..._now._" My fists ball at my sides, teeth gritted.  
Haymitch and Plutarch exchange a glance, Plutarch nods. This silent exchange brings on a whole new wave of anger.  
"Aren't you listening!" I scream. I launch myself at both of them, not knowing which one I resent the most at this point. Just like I did once before, I claw at Haymitch, trying to repeat the damage I did last time. But before I get much further, I fill a sharp pain in the crook of my arm, Haymitch's hands binding my wrists and Plutarch whispering _"We'll wake you up when they return..."_ before my world goes black.

**Reviews are amazing  
**


	2. Poison

**Okay so I've decided to turn this into a story due to reviews :) I deleted the first chapter because it was a random one-shot, didn't really fit in with my story.   
KatnissxPeeta shippers, do not venture here, you will not like.**

**Also I know it's been REALLY long since an update, I had exams. But I'm all finished now and ready to write.  
Note: Peeta was never hijacked in the Capitol, just tortured.**

My mind is very clouded. For days, I drift in and out of a state of nothingness, trying to surface only to be pushed back down by morphling and god knows what other types of drugs they're pumping into me. Sometimes, before the drugs kick in, my mind will return to me... just for a moment. Reality seeps back and my memories surface, Gale and Peeta. Gone. They're gone. I've been here for days, maybe even weeks, they would've returned if they were going to. I begin to feel my heart rate increasing, hysteria rising, then... _Nothingness._

_Katniss._

Prim, the only person who exists for me right now. I hear her talking to me sometimes, I like it.

_Katniss, wake up._

Oh, if only I could, Prim, if only I could.

I feel her tiny hands around my shoulders, giving me gentle shakes. It isn't a dream or hallucination. I can _feel_ her hands on me. I wait for more drugs, for the doctors and nurses to keep me sedated, but then I realise that my mind has become slightly clearer in the last few hours.  
"Prim?" I croak, forcing my eyelids open. My vision is blurry for a few seconds, and after blinking multiple times Prim's beautiful face comes into focus, peering at me from above.  
"Katniss!" She squeaks. "Katniss, you're awake!" Her voice is desperate, I wish it wasn't.  
"What's wrong Prim, is it Mother?"  
Prim little mouth drops open. "Of course not, Katniss. It's Peeta!"  
My mind reels. Peeta. _Peeta._ The mission! Oh my God. How could I forgot? And Gale. Suddenly, I feel much more energised, scrambling out of my bed and wincing as my feet touch the ground. I'm so fragile.  
I make for the door before I realise I have no idea where to go.  
"Where, Prim?" I ask, spinning to face her. Her bloodless face doesn't fill me with hope, but there is no time to ask questions.  
"The hospital wing." She says.  
I blink at her. The hospital wing is huge, I'm in part of it right now.  
"Intensive care." She said, her voice dropping low. As I rounded the corner, I only barely hear her whisper: "Run, Katniss."

I've never felt so pathetic. The white wall seemed to stretch on and on, bleak and unforgiving. My feet, covered in thin socks, slip along the harsh porcelain. My head is heavy, I suppose I wasn't supposed to make such a hasty exit from the ward after days of being in a drug induced coma. But that doesn't matter, nothing else matters. I just needed to get to the intensive care unit, to see them; Gale and Peeta. I shove Prim's whispers to the back of my mind, trying to rouse images of them. The boy who had become my best friend, and somewhere along the way become something entirely of it's own. The boy who kept me alive. Then there was the young blonde baker from town. The boy who knew exactly what I'd gone through, what I'd felt. The other boy who also kept me alive. I needed them both, I could live without neither.

I knew I was close when I heard the scuffling. Shoes rushing along the tiles, desperate to get somewhere, just like me. Then came the beeps. The echoed through the halls, coming from all directions. Some fast, some slow. I skidded around a corner, stopping dead when I realised what I was seeing.  
Through the glass of a intensive care operating room I could see Peeta, just recognisable, covered in blood. A group of doctors rushed over to him, obscuring him from view. Someone drew the curtains of the room shut. That was the last thing I saw before my cheek hit those harsh porcelain tiles.

Someones pulling me up. "Get up Katniss." They hiss. _He _hisses. Haymitch. "You're going to get trampled." Despite his tone, I'm relieved to hear his voice. He's helping me up and I realise what's just happened. Without a moment of hesitation, I launch myself towards the door.  
"Peeta!" I scream. The door flies open as a push it. I don't know how long I was lying on the floor, but only two doctors remain in the room now. "Peeta?" I croak. The doctors look up at me, pity in their eyes. All is silent, except for the slow, very slow, beeping of a monitor. It irritates me, that is, until I realise it represents Peeta's heartbeat. I just stand there, unable to move, unable to speak. The doctors awkwardly go about their business. They are pumping some liquid into Peeta's body through a large syringe.  
I feel Haymitch's hands rest on my shoulders. "Go to him." He says, his voice very husky. I take tentative steps towards the bed, where Peeta's eyes are closed and his face is peaceful. There is no more blood, just layer upon layer of bandages wrapped around his torso. I barely notice when the doctors leave the room.  
"Peeta?" I whisper, not daring to touch him. There is no response, just the slow beep of the monitor. Is it just me, or is it getting slower? I raise my hand and brush a strand of blonde hair across is forehead. "Peeta, wake up." I tell him. No response. I think maybe that liquid must have been a sedative.  
"He will wake up soon." Haymitch tells me. I didn't realise he was still in the room. I don't turn to look at him, I just keep my eyes on Peeta, and the fact that his chest still rises and falls. Granted, very slowly.  
"What is happening, Haymitch?" I whisper. I'm not sure he's heard me until I feel him next to me. He reaches out a hand, just like I did, and rests it on Peeta's forearm. It is this, this one expression of affection, that tells me what I've pretended I didn't know. It confirms everything. "He's dying, isn't he Haymitch?"  
Haymitch just looks at me, his expression blank. I think I see tears brimming in his eyes, but he blinks them away before they can fall. "Yes, sweetheart." He croaks. "He is." My knees buckle, and just as I feel myself falling to the ground Haymitch steadies me. "Be strong." He says. "Be strong for him." I can't talk. I can't say anything. We just stand there, a misfit pair, staring at the one person who has managed to make his way into both our hearts.  
"What... happened?" I finally ask. It doesn't make sense. He's here, with us. His heart is beating and the bleeding seems to have stopped. Why is he dying? He can't be dying. He's sleeping.  
"Poison." Is all Haymitch says. It's enough, I'm able to make sense of it. The beeping of the monitor really is getting slower.

We stand there for a few minutes, which feels like hours. My eyes do not look anyway but at Peeta, at my hand resting on his forehead, at Haymitch's rough hand on his arm. I'm running my finger down his smooth cheek when he stirs. I freeze, not knowing if I imagined it. I feel Haymitch tense beside me, and I know I haven't imagined it.  
"Peeta." I whisper, leaning towards him. His eyelids flutter at the sound of my voice. "Peeta it's me, Haymitch is here too. You're okay." I lie. He's not okay.  
After a few long seconds, his eyes flutter open, finding me immediately. He's changed, alright. His cheeks are hollow, dark circles prominent under his eyes and scars run down his neck, but his eyes are unchanged. They are the same bright blue I remember from years gone by.  
"Hey." He says. His voice doesn't sound pained, and warmth rushes through me. Haymitch twitches next to me, let's out a weird choke that he tries to hide with a cough. Peeta's eyes move to him.  
"Haymitch." He whispers. "Thanks for getting me out. I really appreciate it." This seems to break Haymitch's composure.  
"I'm so sorry." He croaks. "I'm so sorry it wasn't enough." He rests his head against Peeta's arm, where his hand had been. It is so weird, seeing Haymitch like this.  
"Don't say that, Haymitch. It was everything, it means_ everything _to me."  
"I'll miss you, kid. I really will. You were the best damn tribute I ever had." Haymitch rises, finally letting his hand drop from Peeta's arm. "You never lost yourself in that arena." He choked out.  
"Thank you, Haymitch. I'll miss you too. Take care of her for me." Tears form in Peeta's eyes, but he's smiling. It's now that I realise Peeta knows he's dying. He must have already known. Haymitch nods, and silently leaves the room. Leaves me.  
"Katniss." He says, his eyes finding mine.  
"Peeta." I say back. He smiles weakly. He holds my gaze.  
"Are you in pain?" I blurt out.  
"No, actually, not at all. It all feels wonderfully numb. I feel your pain, though." He says, his eyes growing sad. "Don't look at me like that, Katniss. You're making me sad."  
I didn't realised I had any such emotion on my face, but I try to rearrange my features anyway, for Peeta.  
"I don't want you to die." My voice is thick with tears. They threaten to spill over, but for Peeta's sake I try to keep them at bay.  
"I know." He says. "I don't want to leave you." Of course. Me. He's still only thinking about me. "Come here." He says, patting the space next to him.  
"Will I hurt you?" I ask. He shakes his head. Without hesitation, I climb into the bed beside him. He's so weak, he can barely move, but he slowly wraps an arm around my shoulders. We lie silently.  
"Gale saved me." He whispers in my ear. I close my eyes, not wanting to know this. "They said I was a goner, after I was hit with the poison, but he risked his life and went back for me. So I could say goodbye."  
It's no use. The tears spill over, pouring down my cheeks. Peeta gently brushes them away. "Let him fix you." He says. I don't really understand what he's saying. "Don't push him away, Katniss. Let him take care of you, the way I can't." I realise he's talking about Gale. "Let him love you. Let yourself love him." He whispers, playing with a strand of my hair. I look up into his eyes, and they are so sincere that it brings on a whole new round of tears.  
"I love you Peeta. I always have, I was just too stubborn to realise it."  
"I know." He says. Simply. I let my lips find his. They're still warm, despite his failing body. And so gentle. I pretend this is because he's Peeta and he's always gentle and not because he doesn't have the energy to do any more. He breaks us apart, and we just look at each other for awhile. He's smiling, and I can't help but smile back. We just lie there, not needing to say anything. His breathing getting slower, and slower. I suppose I should panic, start calling for the nurse or doctor. But Peeta is dying, he knows it, I know it. Calling the doctor or nurse will only tear me away from him in his final moments.  
"I'm okay with death. Getting out of the Capitol was worth it." He whispers to me. His voice is so quiet, I strain to hear it. "I'm ready. "  
He's telling me. So I don't feel his pain. He's telling me that I should not pity him. To let him go.  
"I love you Katniss." He says. "From the moment I saw you." His eyes flutter shut, and his breathing becomes very shallow.  
"You'll never leave my thoughts." I tell him, planting light kisses on his closed eyelids. I get a very weak smile; all he can manage.  
"Stay with me." He says.  
"Always." I whisper back, an endless stream of tears running down my cheeks.

**Wow, that was really sad to write. Because honestly, I like Peeta, I just for some reason prefer Gale. I like my men manly. But yeah, I needed to give Peeta a good farewell 'cos he is a decent guy.  
I hope you like this, it took a lot of emotion to write. Reviews are great.**


	3. Grief

**Thank you all so much for your overwhelming support. I'm glad you understood why I had to include Peeta in all this. Despite many many KatnissxGale fanfics on here, Katniss would never just leave Peeta, I don't believe Collins' would ever write it like that. And whilst I know we all love Gale, the point is Katniss loves both of them, and just ousting Peeta randomly and without emotion just wouldn't have worked for me.  
Anyway, here is your reward :)**

Peeta's death was kept a secret for a excruciatingly long time. The rebels said they didn't want Snow or those in the Captiol finding out; it was better to let them think that the rebels had once again got the better of them. I didn't have the energy to be angry at them for it- didn't have the energy for anything. I reverted back to my old ways, finding dark places to curl up and hide in. Like those days, no-one bothered me. It was appropriate, that I was not seen much around District 13, as everyone assumed I was too busy spending every waking minute with Peeta, no doubt catching up on lost kisses and cuddles. But after a few weeks people began to talk, to whisper. Why had we not surfaced? Why were we not parading around District 13, hand in hand, giant smiles across our faces? The Mockingjay and her prize. Every so often I would accidentally bump into a citizen of 13 in the hallways and they would look curiously at the dark circles under my eyes, my bony limbs and matted hair. Why would a girl recently reunited with her lover look like such a mess? Rumours begun to spread. That command were lying about getting Peeta out, that the Mockingjay was in some state of insanity. The last one was almost correct; except I wasn't insane, just heartbroken.

I now know, after so many years, how my mother felt. I could finally place myself in the tattered shoes that she had worn when my father died. Though I was almost completely numb, somewhere in the back of my mind guilt began to seep through. I had always blamed her, always called her weak, hated her even. But now that I found myself in her position, wasn't I exactly the same as Mother had been? Only now I had no responsibilities whereas she had two children. I felt the need to apologise to her, for how I treated her... but I didn't.

I think of Peeta quite often. After a few weeks, though I am still struck with grief, I have accepted his death. Sometimes I find myself glad that it ended how it did, imagining other awful ways he could have died. His words repeat in my head, bouncing around in my skull: _I'm okay with death, I'm ready_. I would carry those words with me until I die. Clinging to them, convincing myself that Peeta was happy when he died in my arms- as happy as he could have been.

I was lying under the thin sheet of my District 13 bunk when I heard a light knock on the door. This was a regular occurrence, people coming to visit. I don't answer, just like usual. But this time the door creaks open, despite my silence. I stay still, facing the wall. The door shuts quietly and I only just hear the lightest tread on the threadbare carpet. I only know one person capable of being that quiet. To my surprise, the idea of seeing him doesn't scare me.

I feel the mattress move under his weight as he sits on the edge of my bunk. I continue to pretend to be asleep, unmoving. I thought he might wake me up, but he doesn't. He just places a careful hand on my arm. My arm must have felt icy, because he takes the blanket from the top bunk, Prim's, and lays it over me carefully. I almost let myself smile. The mattress shifts and tells me Gale has gotten up. I wonder if he will leave; maybe he only came to check on me. It wouldn't be the first time, he often comes and asks my mother about me. She reassures him I'm fine, and somewhere deep down I have the nerve to be angry at her because, though she barely talks to me, she knows I am not fine. Some days, when I'm sleeping, I'll awake to find some fresh fruit and berries in a bowl that I know Gale has brought for me, as he continues his half hour of hunter beyond the fence. Nowadays, like the fruit, my food is brought to my room instead of having to go eat meals with the whole of District 13; I guess my status has some advantages.

I hear glasses in the small kitchenette I am allowed so I can prepare cups of tea. Water flowing into a cup; he's getting a drink. This puzzles me but I stay still and quiet nonetheless. He pads away from the kitchenette in the direction of the sofa. The sofa is small and not exactly comfortable but I like it nonetheless. Whilst I lie there, unmoving, I mentally debate what I should do. I could stay still and silent and just wait from him to go, or I could face him. Talk to him. I haven't talked to anyone in the longest time.

I stir slightly, wanting it to look convincing, before stretching my arms out and yawning. I roll over to see him sitting where I thought he would be, on the sofa.  
"You never were much of an actress, Catnip." He says, taking a sip from his cup of water to hide his smile. His words are definitely not the ones I was expecting after weeks, maybe even months, of silence. I should have known not to pretend to do anything in front of Gale, he knows me too well.  
"Why the blanket then?" I ask, trying to sound smart.  
"Asleep or not, you were still freezing."  
I finally allow myself to smile.  
"Ah, finally a smile." Gale says, letting himself grin.  
"I haven't exactly had much to smile about." I shoot back at him, a bit harsher than I intended. The smile on his face diminishes in a second and I feel a bit guilty for lashing out.  
"I know, I'm sorry." He says, looking down at his hands in his lap. There is a long silence where I just look at him. His face, his shoulders, his hands that grasp the cup. I want to find a reason for me to be angry at him, to send him out, to scream at him. I want to blame him and punish him with more silence... but I can't. I can't, simply because he has done nothing wrong. In fact, he has done everything right. He's let me grieve by myself yet still been around. He hasn't tried to force me, like my mother, into moving on before I was ready. He's just there, waiting in the wings, just in case I might ever need him. There is no reason for me to be angry at Gale, and just because I'm still grieving over Peeta, it doesn't mean I should take it out on him.  
"It's okay."  
He looks up from beneath his dark lashes, and gives me the tiniest of smiles. I decide to give him one back.

**It's a short chapter, but I didn't want to over-do it. Let me know how you feel about it :)**


	4. Different

**Wow, thank you everyone! Reviews since the last update have been amazing (I even got praise from a Peeta lover-definitely not something I ever expected to get). I'm glad you all are enjoying how I'm writing the story and love you for sticking with it. **

**I hope you all had a great Christmas.  
**

I never really understood what it was to miss someone. Sure, I'd longed, _ached_, to see Gale or Prim or my mother whenever I was in the Games, and then during those long weeks where Peeta was trapped in the Captiol I longed for him too. But what I felt now, it was different. Back then, I had always known or hoped that I would see them again; or if I didn't think I would see them again, I knew I would be dead and no longer able to feel that pain of missing them. Now it was different, I was alive and Peeta was dead. I could still _feel_.  
I would never ever see him again, never feel his touch or hear his voice. I would never laugh with him or stare into those perfect blue eyes. He was gone. The thought, the _reality_, of it was like a hole in my chest, empty and gaping.  
Sometimes, my mind would wander and I'd briefly forget. I'd talk to mother or Prim or even play with Buttercup and for a few minutes my thoughts were distracted. But when I returned to my own mind, it was like a slap in the face. No Peeta. Ever again. When I remembered, it was like the wind was knocked out of me, that there was no longer ground beneath my feet, I was falling. I now fully understood what it was to miss someone, to feel that desperate. To _need_ them but know they were forever out of your reach. There was none of that warmth, that tiny little glow of hope that one day they might return to you. Just ice.

Day by day, week by week, I become different. I say different instead of better because it never really gets better; when you lose someone. You never really stop thinking about them, or caring that they are no longer here, you just learn to live with it. You learn to cope, to get on with life. The hole inside you will never really be fixed, just built around. I began to realise that just because Peeta wasn't able to live anymore, doesn't mean I shouldn't. It's not what he would have wanted for me. Sometimes I imagine Peeta sitting up there in heaven with his family, watching me: _Don't let two lives be lost, Katniss. Live yours for me._

Some days it isn't so easy. Some days, I will lie in bed trying to stop myself from breathing just because I can't bare to get up anymore. On those days, people will tip toe around me. Gale will come and sit by me, sometimes brushing strands of hair out of my eyes or cupping my cheek in his palm. Prim will watch me with tentative eyes, dying to help me but not knowing how. She'll bring me cups of tea and biscuits and brush my hair and tell me stories about her day. Sometimes, when she was talking to me, I'd comment on what she had said or ask a question, and her face would light up like a child's on Christmas. Instead of making me feel good about myself for making her happy, it made me sad to think that this tiny response from me was her whole world.

So now, when I got to those days, I'd think of Prim. I'd think of her face and how it would light up whenever I showed signs of being human again. Though it was hard to imagine, people had felt like me. My _Mother_ had felt like me. And those people still managed to get on with their lives. I was Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, survived _two_ Hunger Games. If I could survive that, I could survive anything.

Only problem was, surviving physically is much easier than emotionally. But I had to try, for Prim and Mother and Haymitch and... Gale.

"Prim, maybe I could eat dinner down with you today?" We were sitting around in our compartment, me reading a book. Prim looked up from the spot on the floor where she was playing with Buttercup, her eyes wide. She made no attempt to conceal her surprise.  
"Down... down with the others?" She asked.  
I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Sure, why not." Prim just stared at me for a few more moment before cracking a huge grin.  
"Really? Well that's great Katniss. I think we're having lamb stew tonight! Your favourite." Prim was off the floor, practically bouncing off the walls. She continued to ramble, "I don't think it has the little plums you like but you know, some of those little luxuries just can't be afforded here in 13. Oh, I can't _wait_ to tell Posy. She's been asking where you were for _ages_ now. Every meal, 'Where's Katniss? Where's Katniss?' She's like a broken record I tell you." Prim continues, and I have to smile just a little bit at how excited she is. I zone out for awhile and she settles down with Buttercup, still chattering about random things. One sentence catches my attention though. "Gale is going to be so excited to see you. He always asks about you."  
I look up at Prim. "Really?"  
"Of course! Haven't you noticed how many times he stops by? It's been hard for him too, with such a busy schedule what with the extra hunting he does for you."  
"What extra hunting?" I ask her, wondering what on earth she is talking about.  
"Oh, didn't you know? The only reason you are allowed to eat your meals in your room is if Gale provides all resources from outside, or trades some game for 13's resources. You didn't think they would just _let _you eat in here for free, did you?"  
"No... I guess I didn't." I say slowly. I can't explain why this little piece of news made me smile... or maybe I can and I just don't want to.

"Hey Prim," I said, getting up and walking to a drawer. I fumbled around in it, looking for what I wanted. Finally, I found it. "It's been a while since a game of crazy cat." I say, holding up the torch. Prim grinned and jumped up to turn the lights off.  
"Thanks Katniss." She said in the darkness. I'm not sure what she was thanking me for, but a tear, just one, leaks out the corner of my eye. For the first time in a long time, it isn't a sad one.

* * *

Walking into the dining hall with my head down, I imagined every pair of eyes on me. I imagined whispers and glances and mothers telling their children off for staring but stealing a few glances themselves. I already knew that, by now, Command had released news of Peeta's death. It would have been a blow, no doubt, to the spirits of 13's citizens. This was the first time I had properly emerged from my compartment.

After Prim, walking close beside me, squeezed my hand. To my surprise, when I raised my head it wasn't nearly as horrible as I'd been imagining. To be expected, people _did _look. But most just gave me a small, sympathetic smile before going back to their business. People were surprised, but no-one really stared nor broke out in whispers. It very comforting, and respectful; I found myself silently thanking the citizens of District 13.

Prim led me over to the table where I had always sat before... the rescue. There sat Gale and his family; Hazelle, Posy, Rory and Vick. Finnick Odair was sitting with who I assumed to be Annie Cresta and I silently scorned myself for not asking anyone whether they had got Annie out safely. Finnick gave me his dazzling smile, and his eyes told me he was genuinely happy to see me. The girl, Annie, seemed to attempt a smile before clamping her eyes shut quickly and burying her face in Finnick's chest. Despite trying to look nonchalant, they all gave me excited smiles. Posy stood up and walked over to give me a hug. The sudden human contact was startling, and I realised I hadn't been this close to another human being in ages. I got over the shock quickly and hugged her back as warmly as I could.  
"I missed you Katniss. I hope you're feeling better... Gale said your heart was broked." She whispered quietly into my ear.  
"It's getting better Posy." I whispered back, giving her a kiss on the cheek and standing up before I could let tears spill; her innocence was almost too much to bare.  
"It's good to see you, Katniss. Please, sit down." Hazelle said in that warm voice of hers, gesturing towards two empty seats. Though they were empty, two trays of steaming hot stew were on the table before the seats.  
Prim gave me a little shove towards the empty seat next to Gale, and took the other one beside me. "I thought you would feel most comfortable next to us." She whispered. I nodded. Something told me her and Gale had planned this. I settled in and everyone around me seemed content, except Posy who looked a little upset at the seating arrangements.

I liked that no-one made a big deal about me returning to the hall. I didn't cause a huge awkward silence and no-one really expected me to talk. In fact, apart from my return, dinner seemed completely normal. Everyone went about their usual conversations, just like we had before the rescue. I sat quietly eating my stew, just listening and observing. I learned that Johanna was recovering in hospital and undergoing intensive therapy, much to her disgust, to help her move past what had happened to her in the Capitol. I shuddered to think of what they had done to her... and Peeta. Shoving the thoughts away, I set my cutlery down and took a sip of my cup of water. I was already full, despite not eating much. I didn't want to leave though, feeling extremely normal for the first time in a long time. With my hands in my lap, I just listened and smiled and occasionally laughed at a joke Finnick or Gale made. I could feel Prim relax beside me.

I looked around the table, at all these people that cared about me; people who I cared about back. In fact, apart from Annie who I barely knew and my mother who was not present, this table seated every person in this world I loved. And by the look in Finnick's eyes as he gazed at Annie, I was sure I'd grow to love her too. I realised that though Peeta was gone, there was still things left for me in this world. Friends and family and people who needed me. People who, like Peeta, could be taken from me any moment. I had to make the most of my time with them. I had to love them while I could.

Silently, and very subtly, Gale's hand slid under the table and took mine, gently. At first I was startled, not sure how I should react. But then he squeezed it and I looked at him smiling at me. It was reassuring, proud even.  
"I've missed you Catnip," He whispered to me. "We all have." His words were so silent and so subtle that I don't think anyone else had even noticed we were talking.  
"Me too." I whispered, squeezing his hand back.

**I sat on this chapter for a long time, wondering whether I should post it or not because it doesn't involve much Gale, more Prim and how Katniss is dealing with her life (because Prim is adorable). But, if I was Collins, I would be giving a rounded perspective of her life, not just her focus on Gale. However, expect way more Gale next chapter.  
**

**Hope you liked it, reviewww! :)**

**P.S: Going away on holiday for a week and a bit so I won't be able to write until I get back. I will update as soon as I can though.  
**


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